Candy Coated Chaos
by Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands
Summary: Ethan’s back for more Halloween mayhem, but why the heck did he set up a candy shop in Colorado Springs? Xander’s out for answers. His first priority, though, is tackling the attractive blond with the candy corn.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SG: SG-1.**

**Setting: SG-1 is set during season 10 sometime (let's just pretend it's Halloween, okay, and I won't go into many spoilers). BtVS is post seventh season. **

**This is part of the _Twisting_ _the Hellmouth 2006 Halloween Fic Spree Challenge_. The prompt used was "candy". Enjoy!**

**Summary: Ethan's back for more Halloween mayhem, but why the heck did he set up a candy shop in Colorado Springs? Xander's out for answers. His first priority, though, is tackling the attractive blond with the candy corn. Sam Carter/Xander Harris.**

_**Candy-Coated Chaos**_

)0()0(

**The Shop**

_A medallion of silver, its width embedded with the golden image of two heads facing opposite directions—this simple object he caressed with more tenderness than a new mother holding her infant for the first time. Ethan graced it with his fox's grin, a soft, mocking chuckle in the back of his throat. This was an old god, one whom he had called upon in the past. Those plans had fallen through, but tonight he would succeed. Indeed, he would, or this pathetic city would pay for taking up his time. _

_Before, there had been that damned slayer and his old mate Ripper . . . ehem. . . Rupert. The problem, the reason for his failure, had obviously been his lack of a goal. He had been a dutiful worshiper, calling upon the most likely of powers to aid him in his beautiful chaos. But now. . . .Oh, pity he who stood between Ethan Rayne and his god's treasure. _

_Janus, master of doors, would indeed be pleased with the midnight offering. _

_The sound of the front door's bell rang out, drawing Ethan from his thoughts. He tucked his medallion in his shirt, peeking around the corner of the dividing curtains out at the main shop. His eyes narrowed at he spotted his new customer. Amongst the rows of brightly colored jars and boxes, brim-fill of sugar coated confections, walked a woman, tall, blonde, familiar. _

_Ethan's smile widened. _Your photograph does you no justice, Samantha Carter. I wonder what brings you to my quaint shop—the 'brain' has a sweet tooth? Beautiful. . . .

_One would think that the rehabilitation time he spent with the government would keep him from playing with fire, especially if the flame happened to be such a coveted world cover-up—but Ethan was not just any man. Those Initiative fools should have known better than to lock in up in a facility as top secret as Area 51. . . .Oh, but they would never learn. Rayne was a man of magic, and they, ignorant boys with guns, had put him in a place of science, a secret place that was unaware of the true damage he could do. Did they honestly think that he would not learn that place's secrets? _

_Ethan laughed. _They gave me everything I needed—so much fuel for chaos. And they will never see me coming.

_The man stepped out, approaching her like a predator, his expression the essence of politeness, his crisp English accent layered in charm as he watched her intelligent blue eyes shoot up from the bag of goodies in her hands. _

"_Why, hello, miss! The candy corn strikes your fancy, I see. Excellent choice, if I do say so myself. . . ."_


	2. Chapter 1: When Words are Not Enough

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SG: SG-1. **

**Author's Note: Most of the POV will be through Xander, but I will make scene or perspective changes obvious. **

_**Candy Coated Chaos**_

**Chapter 1: When Words are not Enough**

Samantha Carter was a workaholic. That much, she knew. In fact, she would gladly admit it.

Some people would say that her projects kept her from having a life, but she would only shake her head knowingly. Sam was doing what she loved, and there was nothing she felt more passionate about.

After all, it wasn't everyone whose job involved saving planets, making inter-galactic peace, and averting the destruction of Earth—not to mention that she had solved that whole alternate fuel problem ages ago. Dangerous as it sometimes (well, usually) was, it gave her a type of satisfaction that an average astrophysicist would never be able to grasp. But that wasn't the way Sam viewed her life.

She knew her importance in her field, in what she did day to day, but she'd much rather concentrate on the numbers than the imminent invasion of her world by whatever enemy the Stargate program was currently facing. Free time, away from a computer or a work board, meant time thinking, truly _thinking_ about the future. Sam had worked hard at making sure that people didn't know the reason why she kept going twenty hours a day.

She found herself often disliking the idea of leaving the base at all. However, being human, she had to go topside every one in a while. So why not the day before Halloween?

The leaves bright, the wind chill, and the yards of suburbia decorated with plastic tombstones and manmade cobwebs: it was a good time of year. It was a time for memories. Sam smiled fondly, recollecting prank nights and sloppy costumes she'd worn as a child, before her mother's death.

Pocketing her keys, she walked into the candy shop. Yes, Samantha Carter was in the mood for something sweet. It had been way too long since she'd had anything other than a chocolate energy bar, a stick of gum, or a cup of jello. Plus, one of the guards had mentioned taking his kid to the new store while she was signing out. As strange as it sounded in her head, Sam had been drawn to the charming little building.

_What was it I use to always bring home before Halloween? _Ah, yes, candy corn. She'd binged on that sickeningly sweet treat even in her teenage years, though she was usually partaking while studying, not watching cheap horror flicks like Mark.

_Wow, it's been years since I've had any of that stuff. _

She gravitated to a wooden barrel, overfilled with bags of the sugary confection. The sound of footsteps brought her to attention, though. Her eyes went up to greet a politely smiling face.

"Why, hello, miss! Candy corn? Excellent choice. . . ."

**)o(0)o(**

"The Bee Hive?"

Xander was speaking to himself now. He was getting used to that, having spent the last few months surrounded by a large gaggle of teenage girls who seemed to be deaf any time he wasn't using the words 'pizza' or 'shopping'.

"Who names a candy shop The Bee Hive? I mean, maybe The Candy Jar or Cavity Central or something. . . ." the man snorted, rolling his good eye. Stupid bad guys and their lame creativity. _Though, kudos to Rayne for not using his first name again. I guess you can teach an old dog. _"So, you're sure this is the place?"

He waited a moment, glancing down at the cell phone in his hands. Yup, full bars and everything. Yet, silence. "Hello? Earth to stuffy British man!"

"Oh, yes, forgive me, Xander," Giles' voice answered. Xander could hear Buffy chattering in the background, obviously trying to recapture her old watcher's attention. Giles hissed for quiet and turned his attention back to the young man on the line. "As far as my sources are concerned, The Bee Hive is the shop in question. What do you see? Anything suspicious?"

"Like what? Satanic Oompa Loompas?"

"Xander," Giles warned.

"It looks pretty normal—which probably means that there are demon eggs in the cellar or something equally icky." Xander glanced across the street again at the small store, snuggled between two of its less colorful clones. He frowned at the 'Grand Opening' sign across its Halloween decorated display window. Boy, did that bring back some bad memories. "Sweet, innocent, and deadly, just how the sorcerer likes it. And I bet he has a hell of a clearance rack."

"No doubt. . . .Though, it's hard to believe that Ethan would be foolish enough to try opening an establishment again, especially after the Initiative's supposed rehabilitation efforts."

"And he was always so _original _in the past. I guess Hollywood's right—there really are no novel plotlines left. . . ."

"This is serious, Xander. Halloween is only a day away. Knowing Ethan's somewhat theatrical talent for timing, we can assume he's made plans, especially since candy is involved." Giles paused, most likely recollecting his own unfortunate encounter with a certain candy bar.

The young man sighed, stepping back when a threatening old lady with a cane shoved past down the sidewalk. "Any luck on Riley's end?"

The New Council had called the ex-Initiative member as soon as rumor of Rayne's move to Colorado Springs had come to their attention. However, so far, Finn hadn't been able to gather any information on whether or not the sorcerer was released or had escaped from the government prison that was supposed to be holding him. That alone was somewhat odd and had been the reason why Xander had taken the first plane from Cleveland, leaving Faith to run the Hellmouth with the other Ohio based slayers.

"I'm afraid not. Apparently, he's been given the bloody run around," Giles snapped. "You would think the American government would be able to keep up one of their most destructive, magically-enabled criminals."

Xander smirked, picturing the older man rubbing his brow in frustration. However, a frown soon took its place. "Wait a second. . . . Why can I still hear Buffy in the background? Are you still in London?"

"I'm afraid so. There's been a slight crisis here—Cleo, one of the younger girls being trained under me, was injured a few hours ago. Don't worry. She'll be quite fine after a few days in the hospital, but I missed my flight to New York because of the incident. I'm afraid it will be some time before I make it to Colorado."

"Do you want me to go in all guns-a-blazin' then?" Xander raised a brow, a goofy grin on his face. "I mean, raiding a candy store has always been a dream of mine—it's right up there with the one involving Catwoman in a milk jug factory. . . ."

"You are not to face Ethan, do you understand?" Giles snapped. "You could not possibly defeat him if he is indeed back to his scheming ways."

"Nice deflating of the ego there."

"This is not a joke, Xander."

"Giles. I'm not _that_ naïve. . . .anymore—not that I ever remember being remotely brave enough to go in without back-up. I'm a wait for back-up kind of guy—this you should know. There will be absolutely no heroics, okay. I save that for the Buffster."

A shallow breath sounded from the other end. "Very good, then. Keep out of sight and be careful, Xander." Quickly, Giles added, "And don't eat any candy, for heaven's sake."

"Or buy any costumes," Xander noted.

"Or buy any costumes," Giles agreed.

"And no letting Rayne buy me drinks, either. . . ."

"And no letting. . . . Xander, do desist."

Xander's smile widened. "If that means 'stop', then fine. Don't worry, Giles—I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Heaven help us," the English man muttered.

"See you tomorrow." Xander ended the call, slipping his cell phone into his pocket.

_Jeeze, when did Giles get all paternal on me?_ Nevertheless, a childish part of him was somewhat happy that the man was worried enough about him to nag; it meant that Giles still cared about his Scoobies, even while his plate was full with the bushels of baby slayers who now needed him.

Xander realized that he should probably get out of plain sight, unless he was actually planning on going one-on-one with Ethan. First though, he took a step forward, foot on the edge of the sidewalk. He strained his eye. From the sign on the door, the shop would be closing in ten minutes. . . .But that didn't quite make up for the two whole days the store had been open, selling supposedly cursed sweets to unknowing victims.

_Think of all the children who have probably walked through those doors, picking up who knows what kind of evil candy—if only we knew what he had planned. Stupid bad guy, once more ruining what, at the tender age of five, I had dubbed the "most bestest holiday ever". Why, if I could get my hands on Rayne, I'd. . . . Oh, hottie!_

Xander tried to hold back the awkward grin on his face, mentally chiding himself for getting preoccupied by the beautiful blonde stepping out of The Bee Hive. After all, he should be concentrating on. . . .Wait, what was he thinking about? Oh, getting away from the shop before Ethan could notice him. Yeah, that was of the important.

However, Xander did the complete opposite, barely checking the road before running across. Contrary to what one would assume, he was not chasing down a phone number or going in kamikaze for a coffee date. No. His interest was directed to the object in the woman's hand, the small, cone-shaped plastic baggie, more specifically the sugary contents inside.

_This is a bad idea. Wait for Giles, back-up. Back-up good—that's what I said. I should stick with what I say. . . .Oh damn it. _

"Excuse me!" Xander huffed, closing in the space, which was, thankfully, further down the side walk and not directly in front of the shop's very transparent windows.

But the woman was walking toward an SUV, paying no attention to the young man behind her, instead glancing down at the candy corn she was pouring into her palm.

"Crap," the man hissed. He ran a hand through his hair, gently touching the blonde's shoulder (_years with a slayer has taught me to never surprise a woman_). "Madam. . . ."

She turned, head cocked, cautiously stepping out of his range without looking too obvious. A sharp brow lifted, her heart-shaped face curtained in curiosity. "Can I help you?"

"I—well, uh—I was. . . .You. . . .The candy." _Great, Xander._ _Great time to lose your ability to speak to the opposite sex—what are you, sixteen again?_ "Well, this is going to sound strange, but. . . . You shouldn't eat that."

Xander could tell she was keeping her temper in restraint.

"And why is that?" she asked softly.

_This is like that 'don't ask if they want a diet coke' rule, isn't it. _"It's. . . ." _Think, think, think—when did helping people start involving my brain!_ "It's tainted."

"Really?"

"Yes, tainted. Toxic even. Very bad."

The woman bit her lower lip, nodding slowing. If there was mace on her being, Xander guessed that he would be feeling it if he said another word.

_So, wrong approach. _Xander didn't think in the next three seconds; one could tell from his actual actions.

He reached out, smacking the bag from her hands. Candy flew across black-top, most of it rolling down the gutter. For a moment more he stood in stunned silence, the woman before him wearing a slightly confused expression, her body tense in anticipation, waiting for him to make another move.

Xander grinned sheepishly. "Oops."


	3. Chapter 2: Bad Candy Police

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SG-1. **

_**Candy Coated Chaos**_

**Chapter 2: Bad Candy Police**

"Oops."

One would suspect that a person with Sam's experience would be somewhat paranoid if a strange man attacked her newly purchased candy. However, it was that very experience which kept her from introducing said man's face to the sidewalk.

He did that for himself. One awkward step backwards, heel caught curb, and his rear coincidentally found pavement. Xander winced, looking up at her from his position on the ground, his face flushed—honestly, what was he, reverting back to early puberty? Where was fight-by-the-slayer-without-falling-over-invisible-barrier Xander, he wondered.

Sam felt a smile growing on her face before she could stop herself—she hadn't seen a babbling blush that amusing since, well, the last time Vala had made a rather perverse sexual comment to Daniel in front of a crowded mess hall, at least a good twenty-fours ago.

"I'm hoping I have that crazy yet enduring thing going from me," he chirped, showing his own crooked grin.

Sam shook her head, hesitating before she held out a hand. Xander took it, brushing off bits of candy on his back pockets on his way up.

"Perhaps you should scratch the 'toxic candy' method off of your ways to pick up women," Sam replied.

"Oh, oh!" Xander hunched his shoulders defensively. "No. I won't—scratch it. I mean, I won't scratch it because there's not a list. I'm not trying to pick you up."

"Really?"

"Not that I wouldn't try to pick you up, you know, if I picked-up women up—that's not to say that I don't like woman. I'm a fan of women. I'm Xander."

"I won't question that."

Xander gathered his thoughts, mentally cursing himself for the verbal spout. "Listen, I'm sorry about the candy," he amended. "And I really don't know how to follow that up. I'd invite you for coffee if. . ." Xander broke off, glancing down at his watch ". . . if I hadn't already proclaimed myself as a "pick-up" free individual."

Sam was beginning to feel the wrinkle in her brow. Crazy or endearing? She shook off the question, her mind turning over possible motives behind the encounter. The young man didn't appear armed, or dangerous for that matter. A distraction? Her eyes wondered across the street, scanning the sidewalks for suspicious activity, before they found the young man again. She casual glanced toward his pockets and saw a slight bulge from the side of his jacket. A weapon?

She stiffened at the thought.

"I should be going," Sam said

"Me, too," Xander began.

His eyes widened when he looked past Sam. He locked eyes with another figure, staring at him from through a glass front door. Ethan had his hand on the sign presently turned to read CLOSED and was standing safely inside his shop when he and the young man glanced up at the same time. Xander could read the word "shit" on the other man's lips, and his mind echoed the statement.

Xander shoved past Sam. Ethan was already out of sight when he reached the door. Thankfully, the sorcerer had not locked the door before changing his sign. Xander slipped in, dodging behind a standing carousel covered in bags of prepackaged gummy worms and sugar covered orange slices. This was not exactly an ideal location for defense, but it served its purpose.

A split second later a green fireball the size of a volleyball flew through the air, shattering the glass door to Xander's right. The blast threw Xander to the floor, leaving the carousel's metal bars spinning and sending sweets flying. _I don't remember Ethan using fireballs. Someone should have warned me—I should have been warned! _

Xander pushed himself up, the plastic bags popping beneath his shoes. He held an arm out, seeing the blonde approaching from the corner of his eye. He turned to face her, retracting his hand before it had a chance to stop her. She was holding a gun at chest level, her eyes scanning the shop as she entered, head low, into the shop.

She gave him a narrow glance, seeming to resist the urge to point the gun in his direction.

"Who are you?" Xander asked.

Sam's mouth opened and closed. She dropped into a crouch, signaling for Xander to do the same. There was stream of curses from around one aisle of candy and then the sound of dress shoes clapping the floor. A door opened and slammed shut behind a tall stand of cotton candy tubs at the back of the shop. Sam moved, her body agile and alert, her gun trained. Xander followed suit behind the woman, refusing to fall behind.

"Are you a cop?" Xander hissed. She didn't answer, glaring at him as she advanced into the shop.

He rolled his eye, dodging past her careful stance and running to the back of the shop. The woman's voice followed him, warning him to stop. Xander was through the back door and into the storage room without a second thought. He came within a foot of knocking over the short table at the center of the room before he realized what was sitting on its blanketed top. It was a bust, Roman looking in its form. And, for some reason, it looked familiar.

"Damn it," bit a voice.

Xander looked up to see Ethan looking back at him just as he slid out the door that led to the delivery road behind the building. Xander took another step forward only to hear something heavy slide behind the door.

_Probably a dumpster. Magic weight lifters, it's always a dumpster with them. _

Xander's foot stubbed the table, and he glanced down again, realization lighting his face. He had seen a bust like this before, but, when he'd seen it, it had been shattered into a dozen pieces. That had been several years ago after an unfortunate ordeal involving costumes at a shop owned by Ethan Rayne.

Xander gave the item a cocky smile. _And Giles said that after it broke, the curse lifted. . .Aha! Take that, fireball thrower._

He reached out, tipping the bust over. It was unusually light. That seemed odd. He raised a brow when the shatter sounded, leaning over to survey the bust's remains. The first thing he noted was that it was, indeed, in several pieces. The second was that on one large piece that had most likely been the base, the words Made In China were painted onto its hollow bottom. The third was that a small, black, round device had obviously been placed inside the bust and that it was flashing a red light that was moving so quickly that it was becoming a red beam.

"Oh crap."

Xander felt a hand clench onto his shoulder and yank him back just as the world around him imploded.

o)0(o

The smell of burning sugar stung her nose. Sam cringed, pulling her hand out of a wad of molten chocolate that didn't look much like chocolate anymore. She rolled over onto her side, her other hand roaming a pile of melted taffies that had formed a sticky trap that the most egotistical of web-weavers would bow down and worship. She found the gun and yanked it loose, kicking the overturned bins of sweets off of her legs as she stood.

The sprinklers turned on, little pellets of water raining down on the smoldering remains of the storage room and the overturned shelves of candy.

That had been strange, even by Sam's standards. It wasn't every day that a candy shop exploded. Or that a green fireball blew out the door of any old small business. She looked down, lifting her feet off the stringy remains of sugar on the floor. It would be impossible to remove, she was sure.

Her eyes roamed the floor. The young man—Xander, she remembered—was a few feet closer to the center of the shop, laying stomach first on the floor. The barrel of candy corn had tipped over, and one of his hands was stuck in its contents as if he had been digging for a snack. He appeared to still be unconscious. Sam had been forceful in trying to move him out from the brunt of the blast, but she assumed that he would be waking soon.

She cautiously made her way toward him, nudging him gently with the toe of her shoe. He didn't stir, so she squatted down beside him, tugging at his jacket until the bottom corner was loose. She turned over the fabric, slipping a hand into the deep inside pocket that had caught her eye on the sidewalk.

"That's different," she muttered.

Sam lifted the object up to eye level, looking for markings. There were none other than the knife marks at the top. It appeared to be a wooden stick less than a foot in length with one end freshly sharpened to a point. The scent of the wood was still strong enough to catch her nose. She weighed it in her hand. Solid.

But who carried a sharp stick around?

Sam patted his side, her hand finishing at the small of his back. The only other items on him were a wallet, a set of keys, and a slim cell phone. It appeared that he was otherwise unarmed. Not that she had assumed that he was responsible for the explosion or the fireball, but it never hurt to be cautious. Also, there was the very high chance that he knew the person who was responsible. The charming English shopkeeper, if Sam had a guess.

_Was he in the room during the explosion?_ she wondered. Xander probably knew. He'd gotten there before her.

She stopped moving, listening carefully. So far, so good: no sirens.

Looking at the phone again, she pulled out her own, flipping it open with a flick of her wrist. She pressed a number and balanced the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she began to look through Alexander LaVelle Harris's wallet, noting the ID quickly.

The phone picked up from an automated system where a kind voice was relating knowledge about N.O.R.A.D. Sam cut her off by dialing an extension and her clearance identification number. Though her instinct was to call her team, she knew that the proper response was to dial clean-up first and get a team out to the shop . . .Whatever had happened here had not been of the ordinary, and she knew the base needed to be aware of any weapon like the one that had blown out the door. At the back of her mind, she knew that its charge had not looked as if it was of Earth origin.

A deep voice answered. She expected a quick spout of rehearsed words.

"Connect me with. . . "

That was as far as she got before she realized that the voice was shouting over the other end.

"You freaks!" spat the man on the other end. "Stop calling here—we know that you want you! You're not getting in through these lines, you replicator scum!" The voice traveled further away. "Die, you bastards!" A round was fired and the phone went dead.

Sam blinked. "What the hell was that about?"

"My thoughts exactly," Xander sighed, reaching up to cup his head in one hand.

Sam tossed the wallet down at the man. Something told her that her holiday weekend was at an end.


	4. Chapter 3: Eggs, Sugar Side Up

**Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or SG: SG-1.**

**Chapter 3: Eggs, Sugar Side Up**

**Meanwhile at the SGC. . .**

"Come on, Daniel, it's just one day, one little day," Vala begged. She pushed out her lower lip in a little pout and almost ran to catch up with Daniel. She pushed herself in front of him so that he could see said pout. "Please, Daniel, please. I promise, I'll make it relatively painless."

Daniel's brow wrinkled, and he massaged it with calloused fingers. Suffice to say, the team's last off-world mission had worn his body down, if not his stubborn defenses. He ignored Vala, refusing to look at her.

"No," he said, slowly, as if there was more than one syllable in the word.

Vala blinked. "But, Daniel. . ."

"Nope."

"It's not even a day—it's just one night."

"I'm busy."

"No—you're the only one free. I've asked everyone else, and they're all busy," she insisted. She stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Plus, you know you want to get a look at me in my costume."

"How _did_ you get a costume?" Daniel asked. "You haven't been off base."

"Oh, well it seems that a certain number of otherwise professional privates are more than willing to make special delivers to a woman in need of a costume—especially when she promises to parade around in it before she surfaces." She smiled to herself, as if imagining their reactions. "I'm going to be a bunny," she added, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "I understand that it's a provocative pop reference."

It was Daniel's turn to blink. He decided never to make another inquiry again. Ever. He also decided not to comment on her costume.

Daniel slipped past her and into the mess hall, shaking his head. At the moment, there was no line to wait in, so he slipped in front, grabbing a plate and walking to the empty end of one table. When he sat down, he noticed that Vala had done the same; however, she had picked up to handfuls of the day's dessert instead of a plate of actual food. She put the candy on the table, surveying it with a keen eye.

"This'll go straight to my hips," she sighed, nevertheless, plucking a small block of chocolate wrapped in striped orange and black paper from the pile.

Daniel scooted his meatloaf around his plate, staring down at it with a mixture of frustration and misery on his face. He had previously made vocal his believe that he didn't need to stop working for mere food. Vala had then decided that they needed to visit the mess hall, immediately. Now he wondered if she had forced him to the cafeteria just to distract him from his text. And to pose the dreaded question he'd been waiting for since the beginning of October.

"Dessert is usually eaten last," Daniel commented.

Vala looked up in mock surprise. "Well," she said, swallowing the bit of chocolate, "if I can't actually go out like everyone else and collect free candy from kind home owners, I suppose I should get as much of it as possible from the base."

She smiled suddenly. Daniel could almost see the light bulb above her head.

"I could take tricks or treats here!" she announced. "I'll dress up and go to all the rooms and all the offices. They must have _something _to put in my little bag." She leaned forward, batting her dark eye lashes. "What will you give me when I come by your room, Daniel?" Her fingers walked across the table and snatched up another chunk of chocolate. She lifted the candy to her lips. "Will it be a trick. . ." she asked with a bite, "or a treat?"

Daniel bit his lip to stop himself from answering. Thankfully, he didn't have to resist the temptation much longer. He watch as Cameron swept in, taking a seat beside Vala. He was still in his leisure wear and his forehead was slick with sweat. Teal'c entered wearing similar clothing but looking somewhat less exerted. The ex- Jaffa circled the table, stopping behind Daniel.

Teal'c surveyed Daniel's full plate. "Are you not feeling well?" he asked, extending his neck in curiosity.

Daniel sighed, pushing the plate toward the other man. "Actually, we just got here."

"Daniel didn't eat breakfast this morning," Vala splurged with a knowing nod in Mitchell's direction.

Cameron frowned at the candy in her hand. "Shouldn't you have a meal or something first?"

"Shouldn't you take a shower before polluting the Mess?" Vala replied, plopping the rest of the bar into her mouth.

Teal'c leaned forward, interrupting the two, his steady face no mask for the dark eyes glistening in amusement. "Did we not enjoy the same sweets for breakfast, Col. Mitchell?"

Cam rolled his eyes at his friend, seeing through the innocent cock of his head. "No," he bit. "Actually, they didn't have the chocolate out earlier this morning."

"I ate a cupcake," Teal'c announced, his eyes lidded as a grimace covered his face. "It was covered in triangular sugar forms. They were not pleasant."

"Teal'c here's not a fan of candy corn, apparently," Mitchell snorted. "I took the candy off first—the frosting was sweet enough by itself. " He stared down at Vala's trove of sweets. "You gonna share?"

Vala tilted her head to one side. "I think I will," she said. "Daniel?"

Daniel sighed, looking up from the unappetizing meal he's slid away. The moment his head moved, he felt something being shoved into his mouth. Resisting the urge to gag, he pulled out the sucker, smacking his mouth at the cherry flavor left behind. "Thank you. So very much." The words dripped with sarcasm as he held up the lollipop.

Mitchell, risking a punch from the woman beside him, reached in, snatching up the first piece to catch his eye. He unwrapped it, pretending not to notice Vala's glare.

"Banana taffy," he announced, popping the sticky wad into this mouth. "Chewy," he stated.

Daniel glanced up at him, his eyes giving intellectual meaning to the word 'Duh.' Sitting down the sucker on the tray, he pulled of his glasses, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked up again suddenly. "Did I miss a day?"

"Lost me," Mitchell replied.

"Halloween's not until tomorrow?" Daniel framed it as a question. "So why are we having candy with lunch?"

"Ran out of Jell-o? " Mitchell posed.

"It just seems. . ."

Daniel's answer was cut off by Teal'c. The ex-Jaffa's hand was wrapped firmly around the archeologist's arm. Teal's released him a moment later, staring at the bulky equipment behind the cafeteria workers.

"There is something there," Teal'c announced.

Mitchell looked over his shoulder and back at the man again. "Did they put more chocolate out?"

Teal'c face was stone, this muscles tense as he stepped away from the table, staring at the steel equipment in anticipation. "Did you see it, Daniel Jackson?" he asked, his voice rushed.

Daniel's brow lowered. "See what exactly?"

"The go'uld," Teal'c hissed. His hand moved toward a staff weapon that wasn't there. He looked down beside him, as if perplexed that the weapon was missing from his side.

Vala eyes widened. "Teal'c?"

Before the man could answer, the sound of gunfire caught their attention. It had come from outside the Mess's closed doors. The doors slid open and a body dropped onto the cafeteria floor. The gunman entered behind the corpse and opened fire.

**End Notes: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter; I just thought it should be separated from the other text. The next one should be back to Sam and Xander. **


End file.
